


Anything But Camping

by Stratagem



Series: What Could Be [1]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: But Thunderblink isn't really in it, F/M, Thunderblink Family AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13105875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stratagem/pseuds/Stratagem
Summary: James Proudstar loves to camp, but Alison Blaire does not. It shows.





	Anything But Camping

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #18 - “Look what I found, it’s a kitty!” “That is NOT a kitty!”
> 
> This takes place in my Thunderblink Family AU, before the “Come Running Back” story.

James loved camping. He liked staying outside in a hammock or a tent, fishing or hunting for dinner, making a fire to keep himself warm. He liked working with his hands and enjoying the peaceful quiet of the forest. Ali? Not so much.

“Come out of the tent.”

“No.”

“Alison.”

“You made me come out all the way out here against my will, so you can just sit and deal with my will finally winning. And my will is to stay in this tent. It’s a good tent.”

“At least give me the bottle. You better not drink the whole thing.”

“No, get your own! From the woodland ABC. Good luck.”

His very tipsy girlfriend was not an outdoors kind of person. Ali had been born and raised in Seattle, and while she appreciated the forest in small doses, she had been totally against the idea of camping. But the safe house they had been staying at in Fairhope, Alabama, had been exposed, which meant they had to go on the run. Sentinel Services was well aware of who they were and what they looked like, so going off the grid for a while seemed like the best idea. Ali had assumed he had meant they would just lay low in a small town, but then James had stolen some camping gear…which had been the start of her bargaining, arguing, and refusing. She must’ve stashed the wine in her bag.

“Ali, you’re being a baby.” He reached for the tent zipper, intending to go in after her. Her hand popped his from inside the tent, her fingers whacking his through the material.

“Stop, m’changing.”

“Into what?” He raised an eyebrow as he lowered his hand. It was only sunset, but maybe she was tipsy enough to already be changing into her pajamas.

Finally the tent zipper opened and Ali stepped out, wearing blue jeans, a tank top, and one of his long-sleeve flannel shirts. The shirt definitely looked good on her… The bottle of red wine that she refused to give up dangled from her right hand. He considered grabbing it, but he also didn’t want to get into a sparring match right now. Judging by her grumpy expression, taking the bottle would have put them in that kind of position.

“That’s mine,” he said, reaching out to tug on the hem of the shirt.

“Not anymore,” Ali said. She wandered over to the other side of the fire and sat down. Picking up a stick, she poked at the fire. “Two days.”

“Two weeks.” They had been arguing since they stepped into the woods about how long they would be camping. Honestly, James would’ve been happy to spend a month in the forest, but Ali would probably wither up if they stayed away from civilization that long.

“Four days.”

“Ali, we’re being hunted,” he pointed out, “It’s better to be safe than comfortable.”

“We’re always being hunted, what’s new,” she said. She took a swig from her wine bottle and brushed some bark off her leg. “We can be safe and not in the woods.”

James leaned over and checked on the food that was cooking over the fire. At least she had started the fire before retreating into the tent and starting a pity party. He loved Ali to pieces, but she had to admit, she was being a little dramatic about being in the woods. “No one’s going to expect us to be here, and we can avoid Sentinel Services a lot better in here.”

“But I can’t avoid the trees in here, James,” she said, her words slurring a little.

“Babe…that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does. You just don’t get it.” She stood up and spun on her heel. “I’m going to get more firewood.”

“I have a lot already,” James said, glancing up at the pile he had made while she was sulking.

“Yeah, well, I’m getting more!”

“Leave the bottle,” he called after her.

She made a rude gesture and wandered away, disappearing into the woods. James grumbled and kept cooking their dinner, using his enhanced hearing to partially pay attention to where she was. After a while, she started making her way back to their makeshift camp, walking faster now.

“Hey,” she said as she stepped out of the woods, “Look what I found, it’s a kitty.”

James jerked his head up and was already getting to his feet, expecting her to be holding onto a skunk. That’s how it always went in the movies, wasn’t it? Drunk people went into the woods and came back with skunks. He never should have let her leave without him.

But no, Ali didn’t have a skunk. What she had was much worse. “That is _not_ a kitty,” he said, holding his hands up, “Ali, put it down.”

“No, it’s cute,” she said, looking down at the little fuzzy bobcat cub that was curled up in the crook of her arm. “I’m going to name it Zinfandel.”

“That’s a bobcat,” he said, hurrying over to her. He scooped the cub out of her hold, which made her yowl almost as much as the wild animal she was trying to adopt.

“Hey! I’m protecting that.”

“Yeah, and its mom is going to get mad about that,” James said, holding the cub by the scruff of its neck as it tried to claw him. It apparently liked Ali a lot better than him. At least those claws couldn’t scratch his extra durable skin.

“You’re scaring him,” Ali said.

“Alison, you’re not helping,” he said, making a face at her. He needed to take it back wherever she had found it before the mom came back. It was a miracle she hadn’t gotten attacked in the first place. “Stay here.”

“Where are you going? Leave Zinfandel with me.”

“I’m taking the furball back home,” he said. He reached over and grabbed the bottle she was still carrying. “I know you’re pissed and sort of drunk, but can you just, just sit here for a minute? I’ll be right back.”

Ali glared at him, blue lights sparking behind her head as if to emphasize her already obvious displeasure. “You’re just jealous because I found a kitten.”

“What?” He shook his head, trying to stay focused. “Look, stay here. I mean it. Don’t go anywhere.”

The scowl she gave him was coupled with a flash of bright blue light meant to aggravate him. She stomped away and climbed back into the tent, zipping it up behind her, struggling as she got to the top of the doorway.

James left, carrying the little hellbeast with him. It hissed and spat and tried to chew his hand off, and James was half-sure that its mother would show up to attempt to maul him at any moment. John would have a fit if he found out that James had got into a fight with a bobcat. He was overprotective, though he should’ve lost that right a long time ago.

The mother wasn’t around when he tracked back to its den, so James quickly dropped cub inside and rubbed it down with leaves and dirt to get the scent of humans off of it. Mission complete, he raced back to the campsite, a tiny bit worried that Ali would try to burn it down. Normal Ali was a lot of fun, but drunk-ish Ali was not so much.

When he got back, he headed to the tent, carefully unzipping it. Ali was curled up on top of their sleeping bags, her head nestled on his rolled-up hoodie. She was asleep, but her eyes opened a little as he stepped inside and she frowned.

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No more red wine,” he said with a half-smile, “But it sort of did look like a kitten.”

“Yeah…”

He sat down and pulled her into his arms. “You can be mad, but don’t go around trying to rescue wild animals, all right?”

“Fine…” Ali nuzzled into his shoulder. A tiny laugh escaped her. “Zinfandel was a good name, though. Let’s name a real cat that.”

“We’re not getting a cat.”

“You’re the worst."

James grinned and kissed her cheek. “Not as bad as you.”

She reached up and traced his lips. “We can be terrible together.”

That’s what they were best at.


End file.
